


First

by AmyTheEleventh



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, lost in thought, sappy ramblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 16:31:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14597085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmyTheEleventh/pseuds/AmyTheEleventh
Summary: He knows he’s loved; he’s a damned national treasure. But it doesn't matter. Bucky loved him first.





	First

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a hot minute, AO3. But I'm back, hey, hi. I'm currently suffering because of Infinity War, so I wrote a lil something. Just something sweet and sappy because my boys deserve so much better than what they've gotten. I tried to stick to a timeline, but fuck a timeline, amiright? This is fanfiction, timelines are pointless here. 
> 
> Anyway, it's been a hot minute since I've written ANYTHING, so this is probably isn't great, but it's something. Enjoy.

He knows he’s loved; he’s a damned national treasure. Everywhere Steve goes, there’s camera flashes, whispers, _fans_ . He doesn’t know how to feel about his _fans_ . Most of them are nice: nervous just like he is, stuttering over their words with a glazed look in their eye because they’re _talking to Captain America_ . Some people are more casual; a simple hello, thank you, I’m a huge fan. A lot of older gentlemen shake his hand and salute. It’s nice. People are _nice_. It’s nice to be liked, Steve thinks. It’s nice to be loved.

He wonders sometimes about the skinny kid from Brooklyn. Not a lot of people liked him. He was small, sickly, too much personality in too small a space. Would people like him in this new world? Maybe. Would Steve go back to him, if he could? No, he decides quickly, no he wouldn’t. He’s useless in that smaller body. Firecrackers need space, and he has all the space in the world, now. To fight. To be free. To protect. Just like he always wanted to do when he was nothing more than a whisper in the wind. Just like he always tried to do, but no one appreciated it then.

So yeah, it’s nice to be loved, he thinks. That skinny kid from Brooklyn would be gobsmacked today if he saw how many people walk up to Steve on the street on a daily basis, huge smiles stretched across their faces, some of them staring at Steve like he hung the sun, or is the sun itself. Steve thinks if his two bodies came face to face, the smaller him would stare with his mouth wide open and ask what it’s like to be so fully adored. And new Steve, now Steve, _Captain America_ Steve would just shake his head and smile.

You already know, he’d say. And you don’t even realize it.

Because those people don’t matter. They don’t love Steve, they love the idea of him that’s been painted: a wholesome all-American hero, all blond hair and blue eyes and strong muscles. He’s a symbol; they love a symbol, and they confuse themselves by saying they love Steve 

_Bucky_ . Bucky loved him first. When he was just some punk ass from Brooklyn who wouldn’t back down from a fight, Bucky loved him, _showed_ him what love was, in every imaginable way. Loved him fully and without restraint, even if loving him meant taunts and jeers from assholes who thought they were a little too close. No one ever threw a punch, though. No one ever had the guts. No one ever dared to take on James Barnes when it came to him and his Steve. Even way back then, when their loved was talked about and frowned upon, everyone already knew they’d be going into a losing battle. Bucky loved that punk ass runt from Brooklyn like Steve filled the oceans and solidified the earth. Bucky loved him for him.

And, Bucky loved him when Steve barely knew himself anymore. When he was big and broad and suddenly a completely different man than the one Bucky left in Brooklyn, Bucky still loved him. Because Bucky knew that nothing had changed, not really. His firecracker of a guy was still there; his outside finally matched his inside was all. Bucky told him that much, the first time they got more than a few minutes alone, after making it back from that first HYDRA base 

“You’re still you,” he had said. “Running into enemy territory - _alone_ \- to rescue people you weren’t sure were alive? That type of hero shit - that’s all you, Stevie. I’m not even surprised.” 

Way back then, Bucky was _his_ hero. And his best friend, his roommate, his love, his this, his that; his everything.

Bucky even loved him when Bucky didn’t know _himself_ . When Bucky Barnes should have been long dead, there was still enough of him there that he made his new self drag Steve out of the Potomac, make sure he was _alive_ before walking away. Bucky told him once that he remembers not knowing _why_ ; just that it had to be done.

“It’s like a part of me woke up,” he had whispered. “They thought they killed me, Stevie. But I was always there. Watching from the back.”

_Seventy years_ , Steve thinks. Seventy years and god knows what else between them, and none of it was ever enough to make Bucky Barnes stop loving Steve Rogers.

“Steve?”

He comes out of his reverie, jolting back to the present. New York. The Tower. His and Bucky’s apartment. Their kitchen table, to be exact.

“You alright?” Bucky asked. “Had this sorta far away look on ya face.” Steve offers a small smile, moving his hand to rest on top of Bucky’s.

“Fine. Just thinking.” And Bucky must see something in his eyes that convinces him Steve’s being genuine, because he relaxes the miniscule amount of tension he’d been holding; goes back to his bacon and eggs with his hand still in Steve’s. They don’t speak for a few minutes.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?” He’s got food in his mouth, and the word is garbled. It’s annoying and somehow the most endearing thing Steve has ever heard.

“I love you… ‘Til the end of the line, Buck. I love you.” Bucky’s still got food in his mouth, but he gives a soft smile; a smile just meant for the two of them, for _Steve_ , never anyone else.

“‘Til the end of the line, pal.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, babes. Stay golden.


End file.
